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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672209">First Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrivaled_tapestry/pseuds/unrivaled_tapestry'>unrivaled_tapestry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Relationships, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, New Relationship, Soft Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:43:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrivaled_tapestry/pseuds/unrivaled_tapestry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All is going quite well for Ferdinand. The war is over, he is Prime Minister, and he has just begun a passionate relationship with Hubert von Vestra. Since entering their arrangement, they have kissed tenderly in the corners of the imperial palace and heatedly under the scarlet oak trees lining one of the many gardens and walkways. However, whenever Ferdinand tries to take things further, Hubert retreats. Ferdinand does not know why.</p><p>This leads Ferdinand to an unfortunate conclusion: he may need to talk to his new paramour about their relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>253</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>First Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here it is!!!!! A true, unmitigated work of Ferdibert NSFW fluff. This fic has been in the works since August with me slowly chipping away at it as these two just got hornier and hornier, and I'm so psyched to finally be sharing this one.</p><p>Thank you to Nuanta and Goop for being so supportive as I worked through this fic.</p><p>Special tags/content notes for this fic:<br/>- First time sex and jitters<br/>- New Relationship stuff</p><p>Background ships:<br/>- Edelgard/Dorothea</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ferdinand opened his eyes to a brilliant red canopy, with broad leaves glowing from the afternoon sun and casting a halo around Hubert’s dark hair. He shuddered into the lips against his in a deep kiss and delved an experimental tongue into Hubert’s mouth as his arms wrapped around the back of Hubert’s neck, drawing him closer. Hubert had his hands pressed firmly under Ferdinand’s rib cage, and Ferdinand swam up and into the pressure of the body to the front of him and the scrape of tree bark behind him.</p><p>He gasped as Hubert bent his head for another kiss, diving this time to the soft spot just above his cravat. A moan escaped Ferdinand—perhaps a little louder than expected—and he quickly hushed it into a hum as his hands fell to wrap around Hubert’s shoulder blades, hold him closer, pull him until the frame of his body crushed so tightly that Ferdinand had to hike his back up along the tree to come up for air.</p><p>They broke apart, and Ferdinand was happy—he was so glad for their time together, for this—but his heart absolutely soared at the look on Hubert’s face. He’d never been so relaxed, at least in the time they’d known each other. Now though, the tight lines of his brow and jaw had softened, and they were doing that more recently, as if a stuck hinge had been jimmied loose and now opened easily. His cheeks were flushed, and his lidded eyes crinkled at the sides as his lips were turned up into a soft, kind smile.</p><p>That smile almost made Ferdinand cry, he adored it so. Hubert’s smiles had always been a rarity, but this genuine sweetness nearly didn’t fit the lines of his face, the jet hair and pale green eyes that Ferdinand once thought of as inherently and permanently shaped by cruelty. But it did fit, and it was such a sweet look, and Ferdinand planned to cherish every one for as long as Hubert shared them with him.</p><p>Gently, he ran a thumb along the edge of Hubert’s upturned lips, because he wanted to feel it. Hubert squeezed his eyes shut, let his cheek fall to Ferdinand’s palm. In return, Ferdinand’s hand moved to the freshly clipped hair behind Hubert’s ear to card through it.</p><p>“This is wonderful,” Ferdinand offered breathlessly. A gentle wind picked up through the walkway, and he wanted nothing more than to be lighter than air, for the two of them to be carried away by it together. Just for a little while, so they could float on the breeze with each other.</p><p>“It is.” With a tilt to his head, Hubert leaned in to kiss the crook of Ferdinand’s jaw. Into the moistened skin there, he mumbled, “Forgive me. I find myself lacking the words.”</p><p>Ferdinand gently bumped his forehead up into Hubert’s, earning another precious grin. “On the contrary, I should thank you for not being a poet. I would preserve this moment in song and you would commit it to verse and we would be here all day.”</p><p>“I…” Hubert swallowed his words, leaning further into Ferdinand before he continued. “These last several months have made me...very glad. To know you.”</p><p>Ferdinand blinked away something warm in his eyes. “And I, you.” With the way things used to be, he never would have guessed how much it would make his heart sing to feel Hubert’s pulse, his breath, his resolute body firmly pressing him into a tree. He loved it dearly, and yet…</p><p>He craved more.</p><p>“Say, Hubert,” Ferdinand queried, allowing a hint of the mischievous joy he felt, “I am done with my official responsibilities for today.” He dropped his other hand fractionally lower, towards Hubert’s hip, just to make his intent clear. “If you would like to go somewhere more private, my rooms are available.”</p><p>The change was not quite instant—or at least Hubert tried to hide the instantaneousness of it. The muscles along his spine tensed under Ferdinand’s hand. A familiar tightness came back into the muscle over his jaw, and his smile fell a fraction. Worst of all, he blinked, his pale eyes sharpening once more away from the haze of affection.</p><p>“Nothing would make me happier, but I’m expecting a report from the codebreakers on my desk. It cannot wait a moment longer.” He spoke smoothly, if quickly. If Ferdinand didn’t know him any better, he’d almost think it was true.</p><p>Ferdinand wanted to argue—he knew that if it had been truly urgent, Ashlen would have come to find them. No matter how seldom traveled their spot under the scarlet oaks was, Hubert was never far from essential messages.</p><p>Hubert drew away, leaving Ferdinand to instantly miss the weight of his bones. The absence of him was like the sweetest lance, and Ferdinand had to force his eyes not to water. He enjoyed their time together, and he firmly did not wish to ruin it by begging more than Hubert was ready to give.</p><p>Hubert looked back to him. “I shall see you for dinner?’’</p><p>“Dinner?” Ferdinand swept a hand up to his cravat to cover the freshly sucked bruise he knew to be forming there.</p><p>Hubert raised an eyebrow. “With Her Majesty?”</p><p>“Oh. <em>Oh</em>!” Flames, was that today? Ferdinand’s cheeks flushed. “How silly of me. Of course I will see you then.”</p><p>The little doubting worm in Ferdinand’s chest was stomped by the farewell smile Hubert gave him, a hint of that same deep relaxation coming back to him at the mention that they would see each other again. That was reassuring, at least. Hubert bade him farewell, and followed the trek back down the gravel walkway on the other side of their hiding spot.</p><p>As soon as he was out of sight, Ferdinand pressed a palm to his forehead. It had happened before, of course. Things would go well, they would have a wonderful time, exchange sweeter words than Ferdinand ever could have dreamed, but the second there was the slightest overtures towards taking it further, it ended. As surely as if Ferdinand had done something...not unforgivable, but still <em>incorrect</em>. He supposed it was possible the previous two times his meaning had been misunderstood, but there was no mistake what he intended this time. He’d been trying to be gentle, coy, but it was perhaps still his error for not directly asking Hubert to throw him onto a bed and unmake him.</p><p>Or ask if Hubert wanted to be unmade. Ferdinand had no preference, and he longed to simply talk about it, but any time he even inferred the subject, Hubert rapidly changed it. At tea times. At the conclusion of private, candlelit dinners. On walks in one of the palace’s many gardens. Ferdinand gently queried, and Hubert dodged.</p><p>The leaves rustled overhead and below them, Ferdinand sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I just wish he would <em>talk</em> to me,” Ferdinand expressed, as he scraped the rake along the side of the bucket. “Every time I attempt to raise the subject, he evades. Things are...I cannot even compare it to how we used to be. He can be so open. And kind. And <em>generous</em>. A truly…” He flushed. “...excellent kisser. But I thought I was doing everything right.” A sharply sucked in breath kept the tears from forming. “I would do everything with him. Or nothing! It matters not. I merely enjoy being with him, but this <em>silence</em>—”</p><p>There was no bringing himself to speak the thing that he feared most: that Hubert did not wish to continue things, but dreaded souring their new and fragile friendship, especially considering their roles in Edelgard’s new government.</p><p>However, when Hubert kissed him, it felt like the world vanished. He wrapped his body around Ferdinand as if he aimed to hold him apart from all the world, from just a second, just as Ferdinand wanted to be held. Ferdinand had no way to know the mind of another, but he liked to think a bored man couldn’t possibly kiss him like Hubert von Vestra did.</p><p>Besides, at times Hubert had perhaps leaned into him at a betraying angle and Ferdinand had—<em>perhaps</em>—felt a firmness against his hip. He did not think it was a dagger’s hilt.</p><p>Ferdinand stuck the rake in the ground and wrapped his fingers around the handle, propping up his chin. “What do you think?”</p><p>Sensing he was being spoken to, the yearling horse in the stall flicked his ears towards Feridnand, bright eyes going wide as he chewed the last of his hay and stuck his head out towards the handle of the rake. His lip beaked, batting at Ferdinand’s messy sleeve.</p><p>Ferdinand stared at the new stains on his shirt. “You are a great listener, but your advice leaves a lot to be desired.”</p><p>“Whose advice?”</p><p>Ferdinand jolted as if he’d been hit by a thunder spell, and he whirled around to see Dorothea. She stood in the stables in her red flight cuirass, holding her shoulder and hip guards in one hand.</p><p>He stood upright and made a frantic effort to collect himself. “D-Dorothea! I did not hear you. I apologize.”</p><p>“I was just putting a weighted blanket on Azalea, when I heard this weird buzzing noise.” Her hair was gloriously wind-tossed, and he surmised she had just been for a flight. She raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“You mean you heard the whole thing?” His spirits fell. “I do not want to trouble you with it.”</p><p>She blinked, her face softening. “Hey now, if you told me you were just practicing your new monologue, I’d believe you.”</p><p>He let out a heavy breath, and felt his shoulders fall right towards the floor. “It was not. I was talking to myself.”</p><p>Dorothea pressed her back against the side of the stall. The yearling reached his head back out again, in the hope he may be able to get the treat from Dorothea that Ferdinand did not have for him. Absently, she reached out to scratch behind his head. She let out a sigh. “How would you feel about talking to <em>me </em>instead?” Her face fell. “That sounded like it was about you and Hubie.”</p><p>He cringed. “It was that obvious? I do not wish to trouble you.”</p><p>Her expression did not change. “You have exactly five minutes.”</p><p>“Hubert and I have been <em>together</em> for about a month now. Things have been going well.” As he spoke, she nodded along. Nervously, he licked his lips and dropped his voice as his cheeks burned in the hot air of the stable. “We have yet to go to bed with one another.”</p><p>Dorothea blinked. “That’s all?”</p><p>“I have indicated that I would very much like to.” Ferdinand chewed lightly on his lip. “It would be one thing if we could speak about it, but he absolutely <em>refuses</em> to. No matter how vague or direct I am.” His chest fluttered and twisted, like a flurry of leaves. “I am beginning to worry it is me.”</p><p>“It’s not. Please continue.” Dorothea’s tone reminded Ferdinand of a ticking clock.</p><p>“What am I supposed to think?” Ferdinand pressed a hand into his hair. “Yesterday we were in the grove—”</p><p>“Canoodling.”</p><p>“Yes. Having a lovely time. But then I invited him back to my room, and once more there was some emergency that only he could address.”</p><p>“So you’re saying he ran away?”</p><p>“Well.” Ferdinand considered. “He did not <em>run</em> exactly, but it possessed a certain...similarity to a retreat.” He shook his head. “But he has never hesitated to tell me when he has a problem before. That that would begin just because we are <em>kissing</em> concerns me.”</p><p>She inclined her head, her eyes softening and her lips gently pinning together. “Think about it this way. We know that Hubie is, um—<em>suicidally</em> brave on the battlefield but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s brave about being in a relationship.” She glanced off to the side. “Think about it from his perspective. He and Edie have spent most of their lives getting ready to lose them in some mad gambit to stop the Church of Seiros. They were making funeral plans when other kids were counting petals off daisies, you get me? Obviously I’m not a mind reader, but he may not know <em>how</em> to talk to you about this.”</p><p>His head hurt. “But, what do I do? I do not want to pressure him.”</p><p>“One minute left. Clarifying is not pushing. You won’t know what he wants if he doesn’t tell you, if he can’t even tell you that he can’t talk about it.” She frowned, as if preparing to deliver very bad news. “I’m saying you may have to take the reins on this one, Ferdie.”</p><p>“Thank you, Dorothea, I truly appreciate it.” He turned to pick up the bucket next to him.</p><p>“Normally I’d charge a fee, but maybe I went through something kind of similar recently.” She stepped to follow him as he began trekking out of the stable.</p><p>“How magnanimous of you.”</p><p>“It’s not just <em>that</em>,” she said. “Hubert has been...different. Since the war ended. I suppose we all have, but I think he was looking at you the first time I saw him smile. Like a real smile, not one of his opera villain grins. I don’t totally know what the two of you have, but I don’t think one conversation will push him away.”</p><p>At her words, a warmth bubbled up through Ferdinand’s chest, and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling as she conspiratorially nudged him on the arm.</p><p>He kept grinning as he dumped the full bucket of manure into the compost heap, and Dorothea massaged her temple.</p><p> </p><p>Ferdinand found Hubert in a side room, standing dourly over a canvas covered with a patchwork of dried paints brightened with fresher, glistening brush strokes. Next to him, an artist and two assistants mumbled amongst themselves, Hubert occasionally chiming in to ask a question or make a request.</p><p>Hubert glanced towards the door, the way he always did to observe someone entering a room, and his face lapsed into a mid-sentence smile the second he realized it was Ferdinand. Without missing a beat, he turned back to the drying painting. Ferdinand was late with his greeting wave, and instead shoved his hands into his pockets and came up beside Hubert.</p><p>The portrait of Edelgard and Dorothea was nearly complete. Edelgard was seated, wearing a brilliant wine-dark dress and a blood-red coat emblazoned with a golden pin over her heart. Long, cut drapings came off the shoulders in a tailored waterfall, contrasting the chiffon softness of the dress underneath it. One hand gripped the arm of her throne, and the other was folded gently around the hand on her shoulder. Behind her, Dorothea was a vision in a lacy, light pink dress that fit tightly from her sleeves to her chest, stopping just short of covering rosy shoulders. A choker adorned in green gems clung to her throat, and Ferdinand was impressed by the detail there most of all.</p><p>It was what they had been wearing on the day they became engaged, and Ferdinand felt as though any painting to commemorate the occasion was inaccurate, as it would fail to depict the tear-stains he’d left on Edelgard’s suit when she’d told him and he’d broken all propriety by starting to sob on her shoulder.</p><p>Ferdinand nervously pulled at his collar as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Perhaps it was best that some moments not be immortalized.</p><p>“Truly spectacular work!” Ferdinand declared, letting his shoulder brush against Hubert’s out of newfound excitement that he <em>could</em> do so, and Hubert would <em>let</em> him. When Hubert drifted back into him, barely by a breadth, even that was enough to send Ferdinand’s stomach fluttering. This man. He adored this man and—</p><p>“I believe Ms. Arnaut will be happy with it.” Hubert gave an awkward smile; Ferdinand knew that Edelgard didn’t care for such idolatry, and it followed that Hubert didn’t either. Still, there was only so much dissatisfaction one could muster before such a masterwork.</p><p>“Say, Hubert, if you have a moment, I was hoping we could talk.”</p><p>He perhaps gave away too much in his tone of voice. Next to him, Hubert stiffened. Ferdinand tried to pretend he didn’t see the old painter’s eyes swivelling up from under her straw-blonde bangs as she mixed blue, red, and black together in an oily soup.</p><p>Hubert coughed into his crossed arms, his expression not altering. “I am rather busy.”</p><p>Ferdinand glanced down at the list of requested changes—all minor, and nothing the Minister of the Imperial Household needed to stand by and watch done stroke by stroke. “Surely these do not need your supervision?”</p><p>Hubert shifted away, rolling onto his heels. The two younger assistants aimed to get no closer to Hubert than they already were, and as much as he moved away from Ferdinand, they moved away from him.</p><p>The slight disappointment Feridnand felt at that surprised him. It was strange. He had never been afraid of Hubert—even during times when he certainly should have been—but now that they were closer, he sometimes forgot how intimidating other people found his new paramour.</p><p>“I know for a fact you’ve no meetings after this one.”</p><p>“Espionage. How unexpected.” Hubert’s arms went from being stiffly crossed in front of him to being stiffly held behind him. “Something just—”</p><p>“Came up?” Ferdinand scowled, brushing aside how this felt like an arrow in his heart. Hubert had opened up to him so much, to see him so evasive, so closed up once more...well, it hurt. He’d figured this would be better than talking after dinner, or when they were in the throes of passion; he’d not expected Hubert to hold the artists hostage. “Hubert…”</p><p>He swore lightly under his breath, then addressed the painter. “Excellent work. I shall be sure to pass along this progress to Her Majesty.”</p><p>Hubert led Ferdinand to an antechamber offshooting from the side room. In the days of Ionius IX, the whole wing had belonged to his various wives and consorts. Though it was being remodeled for state visitors, their entourages, and diplomats that did not yet have housing in the city, presently it made for a series of comfortable, empty leisure rooms where it was easy enough to find privacy.</p><p>Once they were out of earshot, Hubert stood stock-still in the middle of a room. He didn’t turn to face Ferdinand. “What did you want to talk about?”</p><p>Ferdinand was taken aback. Hubert acted like he intended to shoot him with a crossbow. “I perhaps should not have been so mysterious. Nothing is truly the matter. However, I wanted to talk to you about...intimacy.”</p><p>The back of Hubert’s neck flushed bright pink, so much so that Ferdinand could almost feel the heat radiating from him.</p><p>“Please, allow me to finish.” Ferdinand took a step forward, though he stopped short of touching Hubert right then. He had the same look a horse spooked frozen had before it bolted. “I am no fool, and it has not escaped my notice that every time the subject comes up you run off into some office or foxhole.” Then, more softly. “If you do not wish to, or you simply do not want to talk about it, then I would understand. The relationship we have entered is agreeable to me, and that is not a reason I would leave. I will not bring it up again until you signal that you are comfortable but…” his voice caught on the little torn stitch in his mind “...this <em>nothing</em> makes me think I have done something wrong—”</p><p>“No!” Hubert whirled around, his eyes wide. The snap in his voice held more fear than anger in it, and he closed the distance to Ferdinand. “It’s not...I’m not…”</p><p>He stopped—mouth going tight and eyes squeezing shut, seemingly in frustration. He let out a heavy breath, deflating before once more meeting Ferdinand’s eyes. “Apologies, Ferdinand. My own cowardice and senseless tongue have betrayed me. Multiple times. It was not my intent to give you the impression that you were...lesser. My feelings are very much to the contrary.”</p><p>Ferdinand placed a hand on Hubert’s arm, tentatively, and he was unprepared for the way Hubert melted into him, towards him. “Then what is it?”</p><p>Hubert’s cheeks were bright against his sallow face, and his whole frame was downcast in a way that made Ferdinand’s stomach twist. What could make the subject so deep and painful? Had he perhaps stepped on some terrible memory by bringing it up?</p><p>“I...am afraid I would be disappointing.” Hubert’s shoulders fell further, and he hid more of his blush behind his inky bangs. “I have never...been...with anyone.” He animated like a man defending himself in court. “Of course I understand the mechanics, but the opportunity simply never emerged. Until now.” He looked once more ready to run away, as if afraid of his own words. “I would ask you to set your expectations low.”</p><p>Ferdinand blinked. “I—that is the reason? Hubert, there is nothing at all to be ashamed of.”</p><p>Somehow, at this placation, Hubert went redder. Ferdinand moved until he gently held Hubert’s other shoulder, trapping him in an easily-escapable half-hug. “I thought you might laugh.”</p><p>“Only if I thought it would reassure you that there is no dreadful secret here.” Ferdinand clutched at Hubert’s hands. “Lots of people—”</p><p>“I don’t want to hear it.” For a beat, Hubert’s scowl made him resemble the surly student that Ferdinand had so loathed. “I feel as though I’ve been offered a masterful text yet lack the competency to read a single sentence.”</p><p>As his voice grew more frantic, Ferdinand’s grip flowed down Hubert’s arms to cup his hands. “Hubert, this changes nothing for me.”</p><p>“It doesn’t?”</p><p>“Well, perhaps I am reconsidering how events may unfold, but not in any way that is disappointing to me.” He lifted Hubert’s gloved hands up to his lips for a light peck. “I am glad you told me this.”</p><p>Finally, Hubert relaxed a fraction, the ghost of a smile returning to his features. “While I don’t appreciate being cornered, I admit it’s nice to have that off my chest.” His brows furrowed. “You truly don’t seem bothered.”</p><p>Wrapping one hand behind Hubert’s neck, Ferdinand drew him down until their foreheads touched. “Not at all. In fact, it is now I who am somewhat nervous. I have never been with someone new to the exercise of sex. I should be afraid of disappointing <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“I did not want to <em>trade</em> discomfort.”</p><p>“Pay it no mind, I am already thinking.” Their mutual comfort would be his primary priority. He reached up to brush aside Hubert’s bangs. “How about we make a plan, so neither of us are surprised?”</p><p>Hubert’s face fell into Ferdinand’s palm. “That would be amenable to me.”</p><p>“Okay then, how about...tomorrow night? A light dinner in my quarters, followed by whatever we want to do afterwards?”</p><p>A hint of that relaxed smile Ferdinand loved so much returned. He’d not seen it for the entire conversation and had almost grown to miss it. “I would like that, Ferdinand.”</p><p>At that, Ferdinand rose up for a kiss that Hubert readily responded to, his own arms wrapping around the back of Ferdinand’s coat, his hands fanning out on Ferdinand’s shoulders and ribcage.</p><p>Ferdinand went from kissing the corner of Hubert’s mouth to biting lightly at the sensitive spot under his collar. A small noise escaped Hubert’s throat, and now that he <em>knew</em>, Ferdinand couldn't contain the little trill of excitement that flitted through his chest.</p><p>This was going to be wonderful.</p><p> </p><p>They had dinner by candlelight, and though Ferdinand knew Hubert’s life often depended on his ability to mask his expression, to guard his next move, he also followed Ferdinand with a curious smile as he let his eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting. Ferdinand wore a dark red vest and shirtsleeves, and he took Hubert’s simple wool coat at the door before hanging it on a rack near the closet. <em>If</em> that same closet had been hastily stuffed with detritus shortly after work, Hubert seemed none the wiser.</p><p>The fireplace and candlelight glanced off the ancient, reddish wood accents of Ferdinand’s rooms, creating something of an amber glow as they sat down to the little table not far from the hearth. A glass pitcher in the center sparkled with water, ice, and several cups of sweet Nuvelle lemon juice. At the bottom soaked a split vanilla pod and two cinnamon sticks. There was a fraction of the normal serving of sugar, as Hubert did not tend to care for beverages that were too rich. As they sat, Ferdinand poured them each a glass with a flourish that nearly resulted in a dramatic spill.</p><p>Next, Ferdinand uncovered two blue, ceramic plates, each holding a serving of a late-summer salad. Blueberries and goat cheese were mixed into a nest of arugula that had been salted and doused with a black pepper vinaigrette. Trying to find vegetables that Hubert would eat had been quite the exercise over the last several months, but Ferdinand had persevered. And it was good he had, because he didn’t want his rooms smelling like fish saute for what they were about to do.</p><p>With a shy look, Hubert gently refolded his napkin and laid it on his knee. “You certainly went to a lot of trouble.”</p><p>“It is no trouble at all.” Ferdinand took a drink—a fair bit more sour than he usually had it, but delicious all the same. “I hope the lemonade is not too sweet.”</p><p>Hubert took an experimental sniff and sip. Ferdinand noticed the way he tested the drink in his mouth, the workings of his jaw as he subtly swirled it around his palette. There was likely nothing personal to it, as Ferdinand had never seen Hubert ingest...anything without carefully tasting it first. As he finished it with a tight swallow, he nodded to Ferdinand. “It’s lovely.”</p><p>Ferdinand’s heart raced, and as happy as Hubert seemed, his posture could hardly be called relaxed. He wasn’t fearful—so far as Ferdinand could tell—but his movements were a little jagged at the shoulders, almost boyishly stiff. Nervous. Normally their dinners were full of animated discussions about matters of state, philosophy, their friends, or the weather. Tonight, a certain charged silence limited their brief exchanges. When Hubert started on the salad, he murdered the arugula and blueberries with staccato stabs of his fork while Ferdinand wrapped as much into one bite as he could manage.</p><p>There were so many points tonight that he hoped he had guessed correctly on. Under the table, the heel of his shoe fluttered against the hardwood as he suppressed a jittery bounce to his knee. The point of this had been to relax Hubert, and now he sensed they were both getting anxious.</p><p>Yet he was reassured by the way Hubert would occasionally look up to catch his eyes over the candles, and Ferdinand would wonder what mysticism had brought him to being so taken with that peculiar Vestra shade of green. The fondness there made Ferdinand sit up a little taller.</p><p>Fond. Ferdinand was growing <em>fond</em> of this man very quickly indeed. To the point where it now pained him to see Hubert so obviously unsettled.</p><p>“Hubert,” Ferdinand started, fork twisting knots in his salad, “I know we planned on tonight, but I just wanted to let you know that there is no...requirement.”</p><p>Hubert looked up, wide-eyed and stricken, and—this was not what Ferdinand wanted at all.</p><p>“At no risk to our arrangement!” Ferdinand added. Slowly, he reached across the table to Hubert’s exposed wrist, careful not to startle him.</p><p>In response, Hubert didn’t take his wrist away, but he did curl his shoulders over his neck as he pressed his forehead into his free hand. “My...apologies. I am once more giving the wrong impression.”</p><p>Ferdinand squeezed Hubert’s wrist. “You think after six years of your regular—at times looming—presence I do not recognize your telltale signs of discomfort?”</p><p>Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I want to. Very much so. But I want it to be...good. For you.”</p><p>“And I want it to be special for you.” Ferdinand leaned forwards, reaching over the candles and doing his best to mind his loosely tied hair as he brushed Hubert’s bangs aside, caught the hand that was pressing so viciously into the bony spots of his face. “Perhaps we have both misstepped. Let me be perfectly clear—I plan to have a lot of wonderful sex with you, Hubert von Vestra. I imagine we will also have a fair deal of misfires and misadventures. One night is just the beginning, so long as that is what you want.”</p><p>It was no secret that Ferdinand often blundered wildly into things, particularly before he’d grown into his own mind. He often wondered how Hubert had not poisoned him, or Bernadetta had not clocked him on the underside of his skull, or how Edelgard’s duels with him had never left the injuries he, in hindsight, would have expected. Plenty said he couldn’t read a room, and he wanted no mistakes in matters of the heart.</p><p>So, he had learned to talk when he was in doubt.</p><p>Ferdinand sat back down. “Now, how are you feeling?”</p><p>Hubert let out a sigh—as bitter and frustrated as Ferdinand had ever heard, and he had heard many of them. “This is...utterly alien to me. Although I know the feelings are genuine, including my own desire for such a union—”</p><p>“—Say no more.” Ferdinand gently interrupted, and Hubert’s words spiraled off into silence, his face falling gratefully. “We will not put a timeline on it, and just wait for the opportunity to occur naturally! Let us just enjoy our dinner.” Ferdinand sat back, a smile on his face despite the...well, disappointment. But even that faded as he saw some of that calm come back into Hubert’s shoulders, and saw him loosen once more with the pressure off. “And! You know what this means?”</p><p>Hubert swallowed his little laugh with another sip of spiced lemonade. “Oh?”</p><p>“This means we will have time for dessert!”</p><p> </p><p>A week passed more or less at the same cadence as the first several—with walks in the gardens, stolen kisses, and a fashionable trip to the opera that gave the gossips plenty to chew over. With them came sideways glances, stolen kisses as they moved between crowded hallways, and the brush of Hubert’s fingers knitting into the horsetail of hair over Ferdinand’s shoulder as the lights went dark and the overture began.</p><p>If anything, with the truth between them, the days passed more smoothly and their precious moments together weren’t badgered by doubt afterwards. Ferdinand was in no rush, and he hardly felt wanting.</p><p>Well—nothing a bit lip and a few quick strokes of his palm in the nighttime safety of his own room couldn’t take care of. Hubert repurposed his notorious intensity for every bang brushed back, every bump of a gloved thumb against Ferdinand’s jaw; even with questions left unanswered, he had plenty of inspiration. So Ferdinand stretched his sweaty neck out on his pillow and let his body remember Hubert’s mouth sucking the life from him as a bony hip trapped him against a tree, desk, or side of a carriage.</p><p>Of course, that morning was spent in a frantic hustle. For the first time in about a month and a half, Hubert was far from Ferdinand’s mind as he gathered up a series of interior reports and tried to organize them into something even remotely sensible. He had everything he needed, save for time since it had slipped his mind that he would be delivering it this week, rather than the following one, and he was dipping his pen in an inkwell and bleeding it out onto paper right up to the minute he needed to leave his office.</p><p>It would be one thing if it was Edelgard and the other Eagles. This bi-monthly meeting included Edelgard and von Hevring and von Bergliez—the unfriendly ones who were looking for any excuse to pick at cracks in the new government. And Ferdinand’s weakness was Edelgard’s weakness, which made it doubly unfortunate that he couldn’t keep a calendar if his life depended on it.</p><p>He blew through the door with a whispered apology to two stodgy men who were already seated—one tall and slender, the other short and stocky, and both early enough to be in a perfect position to judge his tardiness.</p><p>When Hubert walked through the door five minutes later, they didn’t judge him. Rather, they looked surprised.</p><p>“Her Majesty sends her apologies.” Hubert swept in, hands folded under his cape. “She is unable to attend today due to an emerging conflict on the Gautier border that requires her full attention.”</p><p>Hevring harrumphed, snapping his glasses off to clean them. “This is peculiar.”</p><p>“Alas,” he said, voice going slightly sing-song, “we all have our parts to play. Of course, I don’t need to remind you that in matters of state, I am considered Her Majesty’s eyes and ears.”</p><p>“Why was I not informed of this?” Bergliez leaned heavily on his armored elbows. “We are supposed to meet with the Emperor. Not her <em>note taker</em>.”</p><p>Ferdinand wondered if anyone else knew the second Hubert’s expression became dangerous—not lethally, yet, but the flicker to his mouth betrayed the insidious delight of a man who would have been a career bureaucrat in any other lifetime finding a way to waste the time of two men he despised, or simply force them to tolerate his presence.</p><p>“You were not informed because it is currently a diplomatic situation.” He took a seat. “Of course, we could always reschedule—”</p><p>Before Hubert had even touched his seat, Hevring and Bergliez rose in tandem, their chairs angrily screeching on the wood floor. Ferdinand followed a second later, standing out of politeness. Hubert, barely seated, stood more surely, as if he had known not to make himself comfortable.</p><p>Bergliez fumed towards Hubert for a moment before turning on his heels towards the door. “Watch yourself, Vestra.”</p><p>“My secretary will be in touch.” Hevring’s voice was better mannered but just as clipped. “It is my hope that Her Majesty does not make a habit of this.”</p><p>As the door gently clicked shut behind Hevring, Hubert turned to Ferdinand.</p><p>“Hm. You’d think they didn’t like me.”</p><p>With a small laugh, Ferdinand slumped into his seat, the elaborately carved back lifting his hair off his collar. He took a breath. “I was not prepared.” He considered Hubert’s words. “Is there truly a crisis on the border?”</p><p>“Her Majesty <em>is</em> indisposed at present.” Hubert brushed some small fleck of debris off the aged table with a flick of his gloved finger. “Nothing that would require me to brief you.”</p><p>Ferdinand had the thought that he would much prefer Hubert <em>debrief</em> him, but instead raised his eyebrow. “So there is no crisis at all?”</p><p>“There is a crisis, though it is more related to the upcoming nuptials.” Hubert moved to studying his glove, checking to make sure he’d removed the dirt or dust. “She did not wish to leave you on your own and requested that I intervene.” His eyes tracked the path that von Hevring and von Bergliez had taken. “They left rather quickly. I think I broke my own record. Don’t you?”</p><p>Ferdinand pulled himself upright and began sifting through his notes, cheeks burning. “I did not need you to <em>rescue</em> me.”</p><p>“Of course not,” Hubert replied, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. “It is nice on occasion though, no?”</p><p>Ferdinand paused in the middle of shuffling his papers. Only now did he recognize the teasing hint to Hubert’s voice, the cautious but mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched Ferdinand over his knuckles.</p><p>Ferdinand sighed, his hands stilling on his notes and documents. His cheeks were still burning, but he felt a different emotion flush along with the heat this time, and quite a bit lower. He and Hubert no longer made a habit of being angry with each other, but their relationship was still new enough that Ferdinand found he could not be annoyed for long either.</p><p>He pressed the folder shut and rose from his seat, opting to lean on the table instead and slide along it until he was near Hubert. “Von Vestra, if I did not know any better, I would think you had chased our colleagues out simply because you knew it was my one engagement of the day.”</p><p>“Nothing is ever simple with you,” Hubert replied, looking up at Ferdinand from his seated position. “Perhaps I thought it unfair that they monopolize your time over trivialities that could be addressed with a mere letter.”</p><p>“Well, if you did rescue me—and I’m not saying you did—it would be customary to offer some sort of reward.” Ferdinand’s fingers tapped meaningfully on the table. He glanced at the door.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Hubert said, voice flattened and serious. “I cast silence on it before I walked in.”</p><p>“Well then,” Ferdinand felt his hands strain against his gloves as he tested an experimental squeeze, some outlet for the feeling of being in a room with Hubert, alone, and knowing they shouldn’t—</p><p>Ferdinand dropped onto the chair and straddled him, crashing their lips together.</p><p>On reflex, Hubert’s spine arched off the back of the chair to meet Ferdinand, and Ferdinand’s hands dropped to Hubert’s ribs to hold him tight as he brought him up into a spectacular kiss. Though he had clearly been expecting it, Hubert always gave a small gasp when his and Ferdinand’s mouths met so fiercely, a little whisper of surprise that quickly gave way to his own hungry bites at Ferdinand’s lips and strokes of his tongue. Hubert’s hand trailed up Ferdinand’s back until his fingers were wrapped in long hair and a little low keening crept out of Ferdinand’s throat at the aching there.</p><p>Something felt different, though he was not easily able to put his finger on what. He and Hubert had kissed much over the last month, often enthusiastically involving their whole bodies for extended periods. But something about the eager speed of Hubert’s kisses, or his forceful grip, or the way his hips kept thrusting upwards into the seat of Ferdinand’s pants, told him Hubert had possibly worked up his courage.</p><p>They both felt Hubert’s erection at the same time, Ferdinand noticing it immediately despite the half-awakened state of his own arousal.</p><p>Ferdinand separated his mouth from Huberts, but stayed straddling him as he enjoyed the flushed, dizzy look on Hubert’s face.</p><p>“Ah,” he said, with a smile, “now that we should...probably <em>not</em> do in this room.”</p><p>“My thoughts exactly,” Hubert managed, voice sounding strained against his own arousal. “Though...I don’t know—I cannot be <em>seen</em> like this.”</p><p>Ferdinand frowned thoughtfully. His room was at the other end of the palace from where they were. The mood would almost certainly be lost on the trip.</p><p>“I could always...warp us back to my room,” Hubert continued, “but—”</p><p>Ferdinand grinned. “But nothing. That is perfect.”</p><p>“It is not fit for your company.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” Ferdinand said, leaning forward to give Hubert another peck on the lips. There was a pause, a breath as Ferdinand’s palm came up to Hubert’s cheek. “You are ready? Truly?”</p><p>Hubert nodded, and where another man might have been eager, that one little expression from him held solemnity and affection all at once and—oh no, it was possible Ferdinand was falling in love with him.</p><p>He reached up to grasp Ferdinand’s wrist. “Hold tight.”</p><p> </p><p>Ferdinand didn’t think he started kissing Hubert in the middle of the spell. That didn’t seem possible. The little bend in the fabric of reality gave the same impression of time lost to partial sleep, and it certainly felt like he could have, for all they staggered away from the bay etched on the floor and couldn’t wait to find their bearings before they were kissing again. Even the trademark nausea Ferdinand sometimes felt immediately after a warp was barely noticeable as he walked Hubert into a wall separating his desk and sitting room, arms still wrapped tightly around his shoulders as his back thumped lightly against chipping green wallpaper.</p><p>Unsticking his lips from Hubert’s, Ferdinand paid attention to the spot under Hubert’s throat as his fingers tugged at a starched collar. As he did, Hubert let out a sigh overhead, one hand coming up to the back of Ferdinand’s neck to hold him in place as Ferdinand sucked at the skin there.</p><p>“Ferdinand,” Hubert said breathlessly as his hips spasmed forward. “<em>Ferdinand</em>.”</p><p>Ferdinand broke away, lips sore as he looked up to Hubert. Instinctively, he reached up to brush away his bangs. “What is it?”</p><p>“We should…” Hubert took a moment, caught his breath. He looked as though he had run a mile. Still, he found some reservoir of dignity and said, “I would prefer we not do this in my office.”</p><p>Ferdinand glanced around. There was the simple low desk with stacks of papers that would be expected when hypothetically answering the question ‘what does Hubert’s office looks like?’ without ever having seen it. There was also a faded green-patterned wallpaper and a similarly faded rug, sitting on a wood floor that looked as though it had not seen warmth in decades. Behind the desk sat a bookshelf. It did indeed contain books, but Ferdinand also spied unidentifiable shapes sitting in jars of formaldehyde alongside multiple green, crimson, and black vials—a glass lockbox held dried plants that Feridnand did not recognize, and a metal safe near the desk likely held more sensitive documents. A little light came in from the other room, but for the most part, Hubert’s office was dark and cold.</p><p>Ferdinand swallowed, and hoped none of his surprise showed on his face. When he spoke, he’d only lost a little of his breathless energy from before. “Right, of course!”</p><p>If Hubert noticed his hesitation, he did not say anything, instead turning to guide Ferdinand first into the sitting room—in shape, it was almost a mirror of his own chambers. But where his suite had been updated frequently, it seemed the Minister of the Imperial Household’s rooms were clean yet chilled, worn down yet unlived in. Hubert took Ferdinand’s hand, as if to move him as quickly as possible through the space.</p><p>When they found Hubert’s bedchamber, it seemed to be the only room that had seen some personal attention or use other than Hubert’s office, and even then it was far more sparsely decorated. Shutting the door behind them, Hubert whispered a word into Ferdinand’s throat. Even the little hint of elemental magic against his skin raised gooseflesh under Hubert’s lips as a pair of lamps on either side of the bed flared to life.</p><p>Ferdinand grinned, his hand locked behind Hubert’s neck even as he gazed at the lamps. “You are so <em>clever</em>.”</p><p>Hubert glanced away at the compliment, his hand instead beginning to unlatch the knot of Ferdinand’s cravat. In turn, Ferdinand found the clasp of Hubert’s cape and gladly let it drop to the ground. He was excited, overeager, and nearly embarrassed at how badly he fumbled at the buckles and belt of Hubert’s uniform. By contrast, Hubert’s fingers moved surely and steadily, confidently divesting Ferdinand of his cravat, jacket, vest and so on.</p><p>A little trill went up through Ferdinand’s stomach, and some heat went right to his cock. Just how many times had Hubert undressed him in his mind?</p><p>His hand was on the belt of Hubert’s pants. Though he couldn’t see against the dark fabric, he smelled heady salt and smiled up at Hubert, one arm hooked around his waist and the other lightly tugging downwards. When he looked up, Hubert’s attention was downwards and his cheeks were bright pink.</p><p>“Is this okay?” Ferdinand said, stopping in place as he waited for Hubert’s response. He recognized the telltale signs of fluster, and was determined to keep it from turning into silence.</p><p>Hubert gave a staccato nod. With a grin, Ferdinand helped free Hubert’s cock and—</p><p>Well, that was somewhat unexpected.</p><p>Ferdinand had always suspected Hubert’s cock would be long and thin, just like he was, but what he hadn’t expected was the faint discoloration near the tip, trailing in bruises and fractals back towards the shaft.</p><p>Hubert had carefully removed his gloves, and was watching Ferdinand’s expression closely. It was the same mark that stained his fingers.</p><p>“Dark magic,” Hubert said, by way of explanation. “It taints the extremities.”</p><p>“I see.” As his boots had come off under the hem of Hubert’s partially removed pants, Ferdinand could look down and see that the distinctive bruising touched his toes as well. Ferdinand tilted his head to the side as he searched for the words that matched his question.</p><p>“Does it…?” Hubert trailed off, trusting that Ferdinand knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say it.</p><p>Ferdinand couldn’t shake his head fast enough. “No! Of course not. Although...I do not want to hurt you—”</p><p>Hubert gathered Ferdinand’s chin up to draw him into a kiss. When they parted, he had another of those gracious, loving smiles on his face. “You could not.”</p><p>That stopped Ferdinand in his tracks. Through the lust and through the softness...such trust permeated those words, trust that Ferdinand didn’t have a response for, followed by a deep and sudden fear that he could lose or betray it. Was it even true? He was sure he had even hurt Hubert before. Who was he to promise that he never would again?</p><p>But Hubert had moved on, his shaking hands working at the sides of Ferdinand’s hips, following the path of his open shirt with enough reverence and intensity that Ferdinand nearly drew back. It was not self-consciousness—his body was, perhaps, one of the things he was most sure of being pleasing. He also knew that there were few surprises there. While Hubert was always buttoned up to perfection, even in high heat, Ferdinand often made time for the training grounds, and he lost his shyness as years of conflict ticked on. Towards the end of the war, when he’d <em>noticed</em> Hubert noticing him (Her Majesty’s spymaster had thought he was being so subtle), Ferdinand had made himself even less shy.</p><p>Hubert reached out to touch him, and stopped, his hands hovering in midair. “Ferdinand,” he said, voice breathless. “Ferdinand. What would you...I want to…” He paused, stopping to violently slap his own palm over his eyes. “Forgive me. I am mangling my words.”</p><p>Reaching up to pull Hubert’s hand away from clenched eyes and towards his own waiting lips, Ferdinand gently pressed a kiss to the back of bone-white knuckles, earning a delicious, violent quiver that he felt all the way down to his new lover’s hip.</p><p>“There is no rush.” He spoke it into the back of Hubert’s hand. “What are you—”</p><p>“Tell me what to do.” Hubert finally rasped out the words like a deathbed confessional. “Make me of service to you.”</p><p>Heat flooded Ferdinand’s cheeks in time to the joy that followed. That Hubert was thinking about him right then made his heart sing. He smiled over Hubert’s hand, placing cold fingertips into his own warm palm as he did so. “There is one thing…”</p><p>“Anything.” Hubert shook again, this time as if his skeleton was preparing to shed off his skin and all the rest of his mortal flesh.</p><p>“I have thought of little else this past month but putting my mouth on your cock.”</p><p>Hubert blinked, even as he thrust his hips gently forward and his unbelted pants sagged a little lower to reveal all. “But—”</p><p>“You asked what I would like,” Ferdinand affirmed, “and I have answered. Do not worry. There will be time for you to reciprocate.”</p><p>Hubert squeezed his eyes shut, and Ferdinand watched as his chin dipped downward in a brittle nod.</p><p>Smiling, Ferdinand dropped to his knees.</p><p>Hubert’s hand seemed to instinctively find the back of his head, cradling Ferdinand’s skull as cool fingertips settled in between the strands and waves of his hair.</p><p>Eagerly, Ferdinand placed an experimental kiss to the tip, followed by a sweep of his tongue along the head as he grasped at each side of Hubert’s ass. The hand in his hair tightened, the sharp breath was not a noise he’d heard from Hubert before, and when he took Hubert’s member into his mouth the long, whistling groan was certainly new. It was hard to look up, as he began working the shaft, but when he did he saw Hubert had his head thrown back, the ridges of his throat pointing skyward as he tried to contain pleased huffs.</p><p>Dark magic stains or no, the taste was the same, and made richer by the tremors going through Hubert’s body. Even now, though, he tried so hard to stay contained, proper, and severe.</p><p>Ferdinand would have to do something about that.</p><p>He lightly scraped his teeth over the shaft—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get Hubert’s attention to snap down to him. His lips slipped off the tip, and when he blew cool air on the wet shaft Hubert shuddered once more.</p><p>“You won’t want to miss this.” Ferdinand was pretty sure Hubert would like what he planned to do next—and he was <em>pretty</em> sure he could do it.</p><p>He wrapped his lips around the tip.</p><p>Hubert gasped.</p><p>Ferdinand went further, puffing his lips as he went.</p><p>“Ferdinand.”</p><p>He would have paused then, if Hubert’s hand didn’t hold him so firmly in place, wasn’t pulling that much more at the bundle of hair he clung to like a life raft.</p><p>He took more.</p><p>“<em>Ferdinand</em>.” He said. “I’m going to—”</p><p>Ferdinand didn’t quite make it to Hubert’s hilt, couldn’t meet the clump of dark hair at the base of his cock, but he was able to take a bit more, envelop, suck.</p><p>The sound Hubert made as he spilled into the back of Ferdinand’s throat could only be described by its absence of noise and voice, like a long keening rattle as his orgasm ricocheted through his body.</p><p>Ferdinand swallowed out of necessity, with as hard as Hubert clutched him, and his groin burned at the thought of the day when he could ask Hubert to <em>make</em> him swallow.</p><p>Even if he never did, the look on his face when Ferdinand pulled away, lips trailing sticky ropes of come as Hubert’s grip loosened made every inch and tendon of him hum with satisfaction. Hubert’s fingers stayed tangled in Ferdinand’s hair as he fell sideways, against one of the sturdy posts of his bedframe.</p><p>Ferdinand swiped at his lips. “Did you like that?”</p><p>Hubert nodded. His shaking had subsided, faded away to be replaced by a body barely taught enough to hold him upright.</p><p>Ferdinand only got nervous when he saw the wet on Hubert’s cheeks, the shine on reddening skin against the candlelight.</p><p>He rose to his feet, taking Hubert’s face in hand and brushing away at the damp spots with his thumbs.</p><p>He had never seen Hubert cry before.</p><p>“Hubert,” he started, tentatively, his concern only slightly undercut by how heady and raw his voice still sounded, “how was that for you?”</p><p>Hubert mumbled something Ferdinand couldn’t quite catch.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“It was...very good.” Hubert fell forward, both hands sliding up past Ferdinand’s jaw to clutch at the back of his head.</p><p>Hubert kissed Ferdinand before he could be warned, and he recoiled back almost as soon as his lips pressed against Ferdinand’s, tongue experimentally sweeping at the remainders of his own come as his expression turned inquisitive.</p><p>“Oh,” he said. “It’s...salty.”</p><p>Ferdinand blinked. “You’ve never tasted it before?”</p><p>Hubert’s head swiveled up to Ferdinand. “I thought we already had that discussion.”</p><p>“No, I meant...surely you have tasted your own—?”</p><p>Hubert’s brows shot down as if Ferdinand was playing some kind of prank on him. “It...never occurred to me, no.”</p><p>“Ah,” Ferdinand said, wiping at his mouth again. “It is an acquired taste.”</p><p>Hubert came in for another kiss. “If I’m being honest, I expect to prefer the taste of yours.”</p><p>“Eager,” Ferdinand said, before declaring, “but not quite what I had in mind next. I said you would see to me and now you shall.”</p><p>He broke away long enough to crawl onto the bed, which was quite a bit firmer than he expected as he threw himself out on cold, still-starched sheets and crisp pillows. Just when <em>was</em> the last time Hubert had slept on it?</p><p>As he spread himself out on the bed and began stroking some life back into his own flagging cock, somehow Hubert’s face went brighter still, and Ferdinand realized what had slipped his mind.</p><p>“Oil,” he said. “Damn it. I forgot—”</p><p>“I have some.” Hubert interjected so quickly, so firmly, that Ferdinand’s arousal outweighed his surprise. As if realizing how he sounded, Hubert coughed, shuffling over to one of his dressers. “I um, wanted to be ready. Just in case.”</p><p>Ferdinand watched him as he deftly reached into a drawer and produced a full vial of green-gold olive oil and wondered how many bottles Hubert had stashed anywhere they might have retreated to when the mood finally struck.</p><p>Ferdinand settled back onto the bed and rolled his hips. “Always prepared. All right, you can do this part then.” He gestured to Hubert’s hand. “Be generous.”</p><p>With an audible gulp, Hubert doused one hand in oil and laid beside Ferdinand, one arm brushing at his sweating forehead as his slicked hand drifted down towards Ferdinand’s cock, fingers trailing along his stomach as he did so.</p><p>When Hubert’s fingers finally wrapped around Ferdinand, he canted his hips upwards, his voice going into a breathy sigh with relief as every stroke and squeeze brought new heat. Warmer still was the way Hubert watched his every reaction with that falconesque intensity, the haze from earlier fading from his green eyes as they sharpened and watched Ferdinand’s reactions, instantly noting every muscle spasm and bowing to kiss the places where Ferdinand’s skin was raised to gooseflesh in the chill of Hubert’s room.</p><p>Hubert started at Ferdinand’s ribs, drew up past his chest where he marked the skin with young bruises and the scrape of his teeth—he alternated uncertainly between the kisses and the light bites, though his enthusiasm shown through in the way air hissed in through his nose as he hungrily paid attention to every inch of skin he could reach. All the while, his hand worked at Ferdinand’s shaft, causing a crash of sensations from above and below that made Ferdinand’s stomach flutter and his whole body feel light.</p><p>He’d dreamed of this. Hubert wanted him, wanted to consume him, stroke him firmly, be with him—</p><p>Ferdinand came without warning, his orgasm rocking through his body in waves and pulses as his load gushed out onto Hubert’s palm.</p><p>It was hard for Ferdinand to read Hubert’s expression as his own eyes stung, went half-lidded as his mind carried him high, but it also would have been impossible to miss.</p><p>Ferdinand could have been performing for an entire audience and he would have been able to pick Hubert out from the crowd, so intently did he study Ferdinand’s body as his orgasm wracked through him. He looked like a man who wanted to freeze time in his devotion, as if by clutching his free hand to Ferdinand’s ribs he meant to catch the moment and put it in a jar.</p><p>A knot formed in Ferdinand’s throat so tightly that it hurt when he finally let out his breath. When he smiled, some of the fierceness faded from Hubert—when Ferdinand relaxed, he finally allowed himself to, the focus from the second before giving way to a softness that took every last one of Hubert’s defenses.</p><p>Even when Hubert was joyful, it was typically restrained in some way. Ferdinand didn’t know his mind, but Hubert often treated happiness like contraband, at best acting as though it was forbidden to him and at worst seeming to think it was dangerous.</p><p>Ferdinand hadn’t thought it was possible for him to see Hubert as more handsome—he'd grown to love even Hubert’s most guarded postures, the strict way he held himself, for all it meant the blushes and glimpses of earnest feelings were dearer.</p><p>He fell back against the pillow, his attention not leaving Hubert and Hubert’s stayed tied to him as if by a string.</p><p>Ferdinand finally glanced down, and his grin widened in time to his delight.</p><p>Against Hubert’s pale thigh, he saw the tip of his cock shining with fresh pre-come, the base half-full of blood and already firming again.</p><p>“I must have put on a good show.” Ferdinand smirked. “You seem like you might be ready for another round.”</p><p>Hubert coughed, a bit of his guarded posture returning as he tilted his hip to the side, as if to hide his arousal. “I—”</p><p>While Hubert tried to rally an excuse, Ferdinand was up with a hand to Hubert’s cheek and pressing a kiss to his parted lips. “Before you apologize, remember that this is often the objective of the activity.”</p><p>Hubert let out a low, rich laugh.</p><p>Ferdinand pressed his hand to the back of Hubert’s head, fingertips lightly scratching at his scalp as the fresh haircut caught under his nails. “We do not have to—” his other hand trailed up Hubert’s thigh, “—but if you would like to, there is another thing I would like to do with you.”</p><p>“Yes.” The word rattled out of Hubert’s mouth, breathless, and that turned into a whine as Ferdinand drew a light touch from base to tip. The reaction was so immediate Ferdinand nearly feared Hubert would come from that <em>alone</em>.</p><p>Ferdinand grabbed the bottle of oil, doused his hand, and began rubbing it along his thighs.</p><p>The intensity had returned to Hubert’s expression—his eyes were wide even as he was unable to swivel them anywhere except where Ferdinand’s hand stroked at the firm muscles of his legs, and his mouth went so narrow that Ferdinand would have thought it was hostility if he hadn’t felt Hubert’s hand clenching and unclenching the sheets next to him, the fingers of his other hand biting half-moons into his knee.</p><p>Ferdinand deliberately drew his oiled hand from the base of his thigh, up and around his still-limp cock. “If you want to touch yourself, you may.”</p><p>Hubert shook his head, nigh frantically. “You said you had something in mind.” He said it the same way he might have said ‘<em>I will see this through</em>.’</p><p>Ferdinand sat up once more, hands falling to Hubert’s waist and guiding him down onto the bed until they lay face-to-face and side-by-side.</p><p>He drew a tongue over his teeth, watching with delight as the blush returned to Hubert’s cheeks, left his normally bloodless lips looking pink and raw.</p><p>Ferdinand locked his ankles together and slapped Hubert’s hand down right under his ass. “You are familiar with the concept here, yes?”</p><p>Hubert nodded again, a sharp, jagged thing, and Ferdinand helped him slide into position, gasping as Hubert squeezed and delivered his first sharp thrust into clenched thighs. Then another, less practiced one as he adjusted to the sensation. His face pressed against Ferdinand’s, burying his nose into the crook of his neck so Ferdinand could feel his every hiss, every swill of cool air in time to his thrusts.</p><p>“Ferdinand,” Hubert whispered.</p><p>“Hm <em>hm</em>,” Ferdinand hummed back, feeling some of the heat returning to his own belt as Hubert’s stomach brushed against his cock, bumped it, ground against it, though it still did not begin to firm again. Hubert held him tighter, cupping his cheek kindly at the same time the hand on Ferdinand’s thigh needed to find firmer purchase as it began slipping away on oil and sweat.</p><p>“<em>Ferdinand</em>.” Hubert’s voice eked out of him. “I—I, um—”</p><p>“Shh,” Ferdinand offered. “You’re doing wonderfully.”</p><p>Hubert spasmed again, his whole body violently convulsing around Ferdinand, trying to press their frames together so tightly that they could never be separated. Lastly, he went still, panting against Ferdinand’s shoulder.</p><p>So rough were Hubert’s following breaths that Ferdinand thought he might be crying. In response, he ran his hand down Hubert’s back, holding him close while he rode out his aftershocks.</p><p>“Ferdinand,” Hubert managed, voice thick with sex and something else. “Thank you—I...I never…” He swallowed, and Ferdinand felt it against his shoulder. “Thank you.”</p><p>Ferdinand smiled, pulling back so he could see Hubert’s face again as the heat left and was replaced by drowsiness. “What is the verdict?”</p><p>At some point during the process, Hubert seemed to have melted like a used candle. He watched Ferdinand, looking dazed as he brushed a thumb at his cheek. “It was wonderful. There is no one I would rather have done that with.”</p><p>For all Ferdinand was concerned, a beam of light could have burst free from him in that moment.</p><p>Hubert coughed lightly, eyes darting to the ceiling. “It was...pleasant for you?”</p><p>Catching Hubert’s chin with his hand, Ferdinand leaned over until their foreheads touched. “More than I can possibly say.”</p><p>After letting the moment linger, Hubert kissed him before saying, “I should see to the sheets.”</p><p>“Oh!” Ferdinand fought the urge to look around. He supposed they hadn’t been especially careful of the bedding. He began to rise, but Hubert pressed a hand to his chest, followed by another sweet, quick peck to his lips.</p><p>“Please, allow me.”</p><p>Despite looking as rubbery as Ferdinand felt, Hubert made quick work of cleanup. It was clear they were both too tired for a proper wash, and besides, a part of Ferdinand hoped Hubert would be up for defiling each other once more before supper. After a rest, of course.</p><p>When Hubert sank back into bed, they faced each other uncertainly before Ferdinand turned around to let his body fit neatly into the curve of Hubert’s, who answered in turn and wrapped an arm around him. Ferdinand felt Hubert bury his nose in his hair, nuzzle at the base of his scalp.</p><p>Ferdinand sank into that warmth, that security slipping into sleep with the thought that he wanted to wake up to that every day for the rest of his life. He could have told Hubert he loved him.</p><p>But it had already been a day of firsts.</p>
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